One More Arrow
by THE Elvenking
Summary: Tracer Bullet's back in an all-new action packed fic from yours truly!
1. The Case

One More Arrow  
  
I don't own Calvin and Hobbes  
  
Chapter One- The Case  
  
"The name's Bullet. Tracer Bullet... god, that feels so good to say again."  
  
"Whatever you say, Mister Bullet."  
  
"Yeah, yeah. Spare the dancing and cut to the chase."  
  
That's how it began. My return. It had been years since I was a private eye. I was finally being recruited for another case. Those guns still shot like they did. If you haven't figured it out, already, the name's Tracer Bullet. That's B-U-L-L-E-T. Bull, like what you are. E.T., like phone home. Or Bullet, like the one that's about to go through your heart.  
  
Anyway, this guy came to me for a case. His name? Don't know, don't care. Besides, even if I did know, I wouldn't tell you. Client confidentiality. Yeah. We went to a café. It was raining, as it always has to be when I'm on the case.  
  
"You understand, then, the dangers of this case?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah. Just tell me what you're paying me."  
  
"One million a day."  
  
Okay, something's up right about now. One million a day? I don't doubt this guy, he can fall to my gun just as easily as any goon. Besides, he's got a suitcase full of hundreds next to him.  
  
"I'll accept."  
  
"I thought you would."  
  
He smiled then, as would a demon. Oh, well. Another day, another million. I had a good idea.  
  
"Can I... would you mind if I used some friends to help me with them?"  
  
"No more money, but sure."  
  
Basically, this guy wanted me to hunt down a cop. This cop apparently killed off his family when he was off-duty. The reason he couldn't get anybody else, apparently, is because killing cops isn't quite... legal.  
  
He also claims my name came to him first when he was thinking about who didn't work for the government.  
  
Whatever.  
  
Then again, for a million bucks a day, who am I to call his bluffs?  
  
"Good. I've got a list forming in my head."  
  
Quite the list it was. Hobbes. Susie. Max. Moe. Mom. Dad. The list just kept going. Thank the lord that I wasn't writing it down, or we wouldn't have the Amazon.  
  
"Nice to do business with you, Mr. Bullet. I'll see you when you finish."  
  
"Same here. Later."  
  
We walked our separate ways. I knew just where to look for Moe. That lunkhead never got past being as smart as a rock, so he got the job most two-bit dolts take... bouncer. Oh yeah, this would be interesting.  
  
Joe's, the bar's called. Greatest hive of scum and villainy this side of Mos Eisley. Put my hand on the tip of my gun. I might need a weapon.  
  
Might? Of course I wi-  
  
What the? Gunshot? Great. Time to get rough. Ah, it's great to be back in the business, and for these killer wages, too. 


	2. Moe

One More Arrow

Chapter Two- Moe

Despite my dead reckoning, I tend to avoid this section of town. Last time I was here, a dame beat me to next Tuesday. Ugh.

Anyway, I got into the bar, and some half-brained loser with two guns and a bounty hunter who'd nearly killed me once before were shooting up the place. It would naturally be impossible for most people.

Of course, I'm not most people. Heck, I've been in retirement for too long. I'd not shot in a gun in two……… no, four years. Okay, four days. Fine, you caught me……… four hours. Still, I am Tracer **_Bullet_**, and it's time that name went to service. 

I readied my gun and took an aim on that coward with the guns. Naturally, they backed down. The bar owner looked at me like I was an angel. I _am _an angel to some. An extremely dark angel, but an angel nevertheless.

The entire bar stood still for a moment. Smoke all around, a few dead bodies, bloodied up with bullet holes, and those two morons just standing there. Suddenly, the bounty hunter spoke up.

"Trasssssser Bullet." He hissed. He always had sounded something like a snake. 

"Indeed." The half-brained loser said, his voice sounding a little metallic. "Shall we destroy him, master?"

"Sssssertainly………" The bounty hunter snarled, and the two began their attack.

Now, I've been playing with guns since I was seven. I've gotten some incredibly good marksmanship skills going. However, two pistols against three pistols and a rifle haven't got a snowball's chance. Bracing myself to kiss the big white mat in the sky, I squeezed my finger to the trigger as I ran in a slow circle. 

Suddenly, an iron fist plowed through the head of the robot, deactivating him.

"What is thissssssss?" The bounty hunter inquired. 

A massive man with steel knuckles on both hands, dressed like a gangster, was behind him. Compared to this character, the bounty hunter was an ant.

"I'll take him with you, Trace." The man boomed, his voice deeper than the sound of an atom bomb going off in the distance.

"Sure, sure." I smiled. The odds had just shifted. I squeezed both of the triggers, and his massive fists ran into the hunter. 

I shot him in a leg and his right arm, guaranteeing that he wouldn't be bothering me again. The cops soon came in and took the hunter away.

"I haven't seen you in years." My mysterious helper said with a smile. "Let me buy you a drink."

He did buy me a drink. Bourbon, two shots of whiskey. Worst liquor I've tasted in my life. He just kept downing it, and held it perfectly well. 

"So, um………" I nervously sputtered out. "What was your name?"

"Moe." The tall man said. "Used to bully ya around. Sorry, by the way."

"Okay, good." I muttered to myself. I'd found my man. "I've got a job offer. One million bucks a day for me."

"So?" Moe asked. "I mean, it's good and all, but why should I care?"

"I want you in on this. How much are they paying you here?"

"Three thousand a day."

"I'll pay you five times that to work for me. Fifteen thousand a day."

"You've got a deal."

I'd drafted my first partner. Now, I'd have to draft another.

Three plane tickets to India? (Moe's a very large man in all degrees.) 10,000 on a private jet.

Moe's wages? 15,000.

Money left for me for this day? 975,000 bucks. My party, however, would require more people. That's why we went for the jungles of Burma. I had a certain associate there who, I felt, would be more than happy to aid me. You might have heard of him.

I call him……… Hobbes.


	3. Susie

One More Arrow  
  
The disclaimer continues! I still don't own Calvin and Hobbes.  
  
Chapter Three- Susie  
  
Although I'd wanted to go to Burma, Moe insisted that we pick up our old classmate, Susie Derkins, and take her in on our scheme. Of course, I hadn't seen her since graduation from high school, so I knew that it would be an awkward reunion.  
  
That was probably the largest underestimation I've ever made.  
  
We landed in the darkest section of the darkest city I've ever seen. If you know the environment I live in, then you'll realize what a statement that is.  
  
Moe claimed to know where she was, and he grabbed two of his guns. He then gestured for me to be silent, and the two of us crept up to a door with a faint light.  
  
Suddenly, Moe kicked the door down and began shooting. "Take that, you scum- sucking maggots!" he roared.  
  
Suddenly, a woman with long, brown hair covering her right eye walked up to Moe. "Moe." She sighed, placing her hand on her curved, lustful hip. "Don't keep doing that."  
  
"Susie." Moe smiled at her, embracing her slightly for a split-second. "I'd like to reintroduce you to an old. friend."  
  
I smiled, but I imagine that the brim of my fedora covered my grin. I also imagined I blushed a bit- I hadn't bathed for two weeks now, and I was wearing fairly dirty clothing.  
  
"My god." She smiled as she waltzed over to me. She removed the brim of my hat, and slightly drew back. "Calvin?"  
  
I blushed, and smiled like a schoolboy confronted back his crush. "Well, actually, Suz, I go by Tracer Bullet these days."  
  
"I like Calvin better." Susie smiled as she sat down. "By the way, Moe, you owe me twenty bucks for the hinges. I'm glad my walls are bulletproof."  
  
"Sorry." Moe smiled as he put up his guns, the charade over.  
  
"So, what are you two big boys doing here in town with dozens of guns?" She inquired as she gazed off into space.  
  
"Actually, Susie," I began, "I've been hired for a detective case."  
  
"Some nutcase actually hired you?" Susie sarcastically inquired. I wasn't very amused.  
  
"I suppose." I sighed. "I have a million bucks a day, but I'm required to have a staff. So I'm drafting my childhood friends."  
  
"Isn't that a bit... dangerous?" She perked up. I had her attention since I mentioned the money.  
  
"I live for danger."  
  
"I'll bet."  
  
"Here's my offer- 25 thousand a day. Take it or leave it."  
  
"Well..."  
  
"You know you want to."  
  
"I suppose." Susie gave in, looking at me. "But I'd better survive this nutcased attempt."  
  
"You have my promise." I lied, walking out the door.  
  
My detour was complete. My next stop was to find my former best friend. Of course, we'd had a fight, so I knew it wouldn't be easy. 


End file.
